Abstract
As the introduction to the special issue titled Democratisation in Divided Places: Designing Power-Sharing Institutions for Broad Inclusion, this article situates the themes, issues, and findings of the issue in a broad disciplinary perspective. Drawing from theories of constitutional design, peacebuilding, democratisation, and ethnonational accommodation, the article outlines the trade-offs that power-sharing faces in war-to-peace transitions and the implications for non-dominant groups. We articulate what we see as a central problem with contemporary power-sharing arrangements, a phenomenon we call the ‘exclusion amid inclusion’ dilemma. That is, for power-sharing to create stability and pacify the dominant groups, it must marginalise non-dominant groups. These are groups who were neglected in the original design of power-sharing institutions, who remain on the sidelines of postconflict politics, and who face major institutional constraints on their representation and participation in the power-sharing arrangement. Using ‘exclusion amid inclusion’ as an analytical lens, we explain how the articles included in the special issue highlight how different societies have grappled with the question of facilitating broad inclusion in the design of political power-sharing institutions.
Keywords
Introduction
Over the last three decades, power-sharing has emerged as the dominant model for the governance of societies transitioning from violent conflict. As this special issue demonstrates, some form of power-sharing has been adopted or recommended for settings as diverse as Northern Ireland, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Burundi, Iraq, Lebanon, Fiji, Cyprus, South Africa, and New Caledonia. Whilst this trend in international peace- and state-building has seen peace secured in a number of conflicts previously considered intractable, many leading power-sharing cases have also been beset by political crises that call into question the functionality of their institutional arrangements. Northern Ireland’s power-sharing institutions have been effectively suspended since early 2017; the spectre of an independence referendum for Republika Srpska hangs over the political landscape in Bosnia and Herzegovina; the 2018 parliamentary elections in Lebanon and Iraq served to re-heighten tensions, and in Cyprus, a UN-supported deal to reunify the island through power-sharing collapsed at the last moment in July 2017.
Consequently, fundamental frictions remain in both the theory and practice of power-sharing. Chief amongst these issues is the apparent trade-off between stability and inclusion that power-sharing seems to necessitate. On the one hand, this claim may appear counter-intuitive. Indeed, the very purpose of power-sharing is to broaden opportunities for entry into government for ethnic minority groups who would be marginalised and excluded under traditional majoritarian processes (Lijphart, 1977). As such, power-sharing is often considered an inclusive model of governance. Yet, as we demonstrate in this introductory article and in the special issue as a whole, the consociational understanding of inclusion does not go far enough. As a system predicated on the inclusion of the dominant ethnic/ethnonational communities in society, including large ethnic minority groups, power-sharing tends to sacrifice the inclusion of other groups who hold alternative identities beyond the ethnonational divide, including but not restricted to gender, sexuality and class identities. It also tends to limit the representation and participation of very small ethnic minorities, including those that are territorially dispersed as well as internally displaced persons and other migrant communities.
There is some compelling evidence that consociationalism is an important governance strategy for war-to-peace transitions (McCulloch, 2014; McGarry and O’Leary, 2009; Noel, 2005). Yet it also establishes a set of political institutions that tend to serve the interests of dominant groups and parties. In so doing, it threatens to close the political space for non-dominant groups, thus constraining the prospects of a peace-to-democracy transition. This is the puzzle situated at the centre of this special issue: By explicitly accommodating the interests of some groups, power-sharing systems – at best – implicitly marginalise non-dominant groups or – at worst – entirely restrict their representation and participation. The decision to expressly include some groups will result in the exclusion of others; it is also likely to limit the ability of new identity groups to emerge and find representation in power-sharing structures in the future. We refer to this political phenomenon as the exclusion-amid-inclusion (EAI) dilemma.
In the remainder of this article, we elaborate on the nature of the EAI dilemma, its implications for power-sharing theory and practice, and the contributions of the special issue to understanding and resolving the democratic challenge of inclusion/exclusion in power-sharing practice. Specifically, the special issue speaks to three core concerns at the heart of the EAI dilemma: the question of who and what is represented in a consociation; the implications of the institutional inclusion of dominant groups, including large minorities, and the accompanying exclusionary effects of institutional design for the representation of non-dominant groups.
The articles that follow all begin from the position that institutional design processes matter for the democratic accommodation of both dominant and non-dominant groups. They all critically assess the ability of consociational power-sharing to provide for broadly inclusive processes that ensure the inclusion, representation and participation of both dominant and non-dominant groups. The authors approach these questions at the level of case study, small-N and large-N comparisons as well as at the thematic and conceptual level. Focusing on the twin questions of who is included and who is excluded in power-sharing enables us to assess the potential for the inclusion of non-dominant groups into power-sharing designs for divided places.
Power-sharing: Intentions and institutional designs
Power-sharing, its advocates argue, is a governance model capable of delivering democracy, stability, and inclusion in deeply divided societies. They argue that the way to do so is by distributing political power to the leaderships of both majority and minority groups; alongside this shared rule, each group should also have a degree of self-rule in areas of its primary concern. Underlying this logic is the belief that elites have the ability to represent the divergent interests and demands of their respective constituencies. Consociationalists advocate for these special arrangements out of a concern that ordinary democratic rules are insufficient for protecting the rights of those who find themselves in a minority position; in divided places, Arend Lijphart (2012) argues, majority rule risks turning into majority dictatorship.
While power-sharing is best considered as an umbrella term to capture a range of institutional strategies that ‘allocate decision-making rights, including access to state resources, among collectivities competing for power’ (Hartzell and Hoddie, 2003: 320), it is most often associated with consociationalism. A consociation is made up of four main institutions. First, the government consists of a grand coalition in cabinet, where dominant groups must be represented in order to ensure government functionality. Each group should also be represented roughly in proportion to its share of the population in key sites of governance, including in the legislature, the military, and the civil service. Key political decisions should be taken jointly and subject to cross-community voting rules. These mutual veto rights are intended to safeguard groups’ vital interests, those issues which are ‘central to the group’s well-being, survival and sense of itself’ (McCulloch, 2018: 740–741), thus ensuring their ability to participate on fair terms within government (see, also, Aboultaif, this issue), for how groups are marginalised when they lack veto rights). Finally, groups should also enjoy autonomy provisions; this can be organized either territorially through federal arrangements or non-territorially through cultural autonomy provisions. These four institutions can be implemented in a variety of ways but the most common distinction turns on whether a party’s share of power is determined electorally or whether the groups to share power are pre-determined in advance of election results – what is called the liberal-corporate distinction (McCulloch, 2014; McGarry and O’Leary, 2007).
According to consociationalists, then, the choice is stark: divided societies can choose between ‘consociational democracy or no democracy at all’ (Lijphart, 1985: 13). As John McGarry claims, consociationalism ‘is the only sort of democracy that can win general acceptance in deeply divided societies’ (McGarry, 2002: 297). Much of the support for such arrangements relates to consociationalism’s inclusive nature of executive decision-making, as well as its legislative guarantees for the main societal groups. John Garry, Neil Matthews and Jonathan Wheatley, for example, commend consociationalism’s ability to ‘generate a secure and peaceful polity in which all groups are included in decision-making’ (Garry et al., 2017: 493). Sid Noel suggests: ‘power-sharing mechanisms are intended to serve the dual purpose of promoting post-conflict peace building and serving as a foundation for the future growth of democratic institutions’ (Noel, 2005: 1). At a more instrumental level, consociationalism allows former belligerents to save face while foregoing violence by embracing engagement within political institutions in return for real executive power (Garry et al., 2017: 494). Thus, power-sharing emphasises the importance of including all conflict parties in government. From this perspective, broad inclusion will facilitate a war-to-peace transition and encourage democratisation by spelling out comprehensive institutional mechanisms for the participation and representation of former conflicting parties in joint decision-making.
Yet it is precisely this collaboration that has led critics to dismiss it as a distinctly elitist form of power-sharing that risks insulating elites from the rest of society. Richard Conley and Charles Dahan assert that putting elites in charge of state stability ‘not only may aggravate inter-group tensions but may also be inherently anti-democratic or manipulative’ (Conley and Dahan, 2013: 4). As is argued by Timofey Agarin (Agarin, this issue), majorities in consociations may be reluctant to broaden the scope of representation for non-dominant minorities. Alternatively, as Andreas Juon (Juon, this issue) demonstrates, the mechanisms in place guaranteeing representation for non-dominant groups might ensure but tokenistic participation of these groups in politics. Similarly, Jon Fraenkel (Fraenkel, this issue) illustrates how ethnic hegemons seek to co-opt their opponents into politics while attempting to maintain the pretence of ethnic inclusivity.
Another frequent claim is that consociations become more entrenched as time passes, making it difficult to move to a more ‘normal’ (i.e. majoritarian) politics. Power-sharing, it is alleged, perpetuates political representation along the lines of the conflict, thereby setting (usually ethnic) groups in opposition to one another. Voters are thus encouraged to support ethnically-framed politics, as the construction of the system ensures that any other choice confers a loss of political power for the ethnic group (Finlay, 2010; Vaughan, 2018: 4). This discourages the emergence of ideological politics, issue-based politicking, or a shared civic identity (Finlay, 2010; Horowitz, 2001). By ensuring ‘all significant segments’ (O’Leary, 2005b: 12) share power and enjoy some level of group autonomy, consociations settle conflict and encourage democratic stability. Yet, as Agarin and Nenad Stojanović suggest in their contributions to this special issue, this makes consociations potentially disinterested in the political status, participation and representation of citizens who do not belong to any of the significant groups, challenging the view that the state belongs to all citizens in equal measure.
Those who come to power through power-sharing are often reluctant to accommodate marginalised or cross-cutting groups, whether micro-minorities, indigenous persons, women, the working class, or other identity groups, since ‘many conflicts are not based on these identities and armed groups do not always self-identify along these lines’ (Sriram, 2013: 283). Indeed, power-sharing pacts may ‘miss opportunities to build a more inclusive model of post-conflict governance’ by failing to recognise and emphasise social divisions and identities unrelated to ethnicity (Byrne and McCulloch, 2012: 566). How, then, does the EAI dilemma affect dominant and non-dominant communities? Are non-dominant groups necessarily ‘casualties’ of the EAI dilemma or can power-sharing arrangements be designed in such a way as to alleviate exclusions?
EAI: What’s at stake?
With these questions in mind, we turn to the implications of the EAI dilemma. The EAI dilemma, whereby the institutional inclusion of some groups also entails the exclusion of others, emerges from two foundational assumptions in power-sharing theory. The first is that the ethnic divide should and does capture all, or at least the vast majority of, citizens in a divided society. As a result, research on consociationalism suffers from a ‘selection bias’ (Nagle 2016: 186): it sees all politics as ethnic politics. When this is assumed to be the case, the interests of those who seek participation and representation on a basis other than ethnicity seem less important to voters and to party leaders than the ethnic divide. Yet, we also know that ethnicity is not the only way citizens constitute their social reality. Even in divided places, it is sometimes not even the most salient aspect of one’s identity (Horowitz, 2001). As Cera Murtagh (Murtagh, this issue) demonstrates, political party mobilisation takes numerous forms under power-sharing rules, including multi-ethnic, cross-ethnic, post-ethnic, and non-ethnic configurations. Civic-minded parties also find ways to work, and even thrive, within power-sharing systems, exhibiting their own agency.
The second assumption is that political stability requires the accommodation of parties and groups with the capability to destabilise the system. On the one hand, this is intuitive – inclusion gives such parties a stake in the system, incentivising their support and cooperation with other parties; exclusion, by contrast, offers no such incentives, thus encouraging instability. On the other hand, however, if destabilising potential is the primary basis by which a group is able to qualify for inclusion, then those who do not possess this potential are marked for exclusion. As McGarry and O’Leary (2017: 67) note:
the inclusion of all sizeable parties which cross the relevant threshold may well strengthen stability by giving these parties a stake in the system, and parties with support below this threshold are arguably less capable of disrupting the political system.
This threatens to omit a whole range of actors who merit inclusion because of their membership in the citizenry and because they are equally affected by political instability. That is, they should be included because they too have a stake in the system. Consociationalism, after all, purports to be a democratic model of governance, one for which ‘there is nothing in consociational democracy that people who are both consociationalists and democrats have to be apologetic about’ (Lijphart, 1985: 12). There is, moreover, no stability-related reason not to include such groups. If they are unable to destabilise the system from outside, they are thus also unlikely to be able to destabilise it from within. As Charis Psaltis, Huseyin Cakal, Işık Kuşçu and Neophytos Loizides (Psaltis et al., this issue) demonstrate in their article on the role of internally displaced persons (IDPs) in the Cyprus peace process, including previously-excluded groups may actually make a positive difference by lending new support to the power-sharing agreement.
In compiling this special issue, we asked the contributors to apply the concept of EAI to their respective areas of research. Three themes quickly emerged. The first relates to the nature of representation in divided societies, a question taken up in the articles by Agarin and Stojanović. Given that divided places include ‘more than one people with reasonable claims’ (O’Leary, 2005a: xxi), the question of who constitutes the political community remains contested, thereby leaving open the further questions of who to include, how to include them, and whether the strategy of including some at the expense of others meets democratic standards. The second theme emphasises the exclusion side of the EAI dilemma by examining its implications for non-dominant groups, i.e. those who face major institutional constraints on their representation and participation in power-sharing arrangements. As Allison McCulloch, Siobhan Byrne, Cera Murtagh and Andreas Juon show, the EAI dilemma is particularly acute for these communities. The news is not all bad, however. Opportunities exist for such groups to mobilise and gain representation and participation under power-sharing rules, as the authors outline. The third theme is that the EAI dilemma has implications for dominant communities too, with the articles by Eduardo Aboultaif, Jon Fraenkel and Psaltis et al. highlighting the inclusion side of the EAI dilemma. As the authors demonstrate, many dominant ethnic minorities find that inclusion can become a double-edged sword, with exclusionary practices persisting even after formal inclusion has been achieved. Together, the special issue as a whole demonstrates that while power-sharing may be an effective governance mechanism to facilitate war-to-peace transitions, it requires on-going reform in order to attain its desired effect of bringing about consensus-driven, issue-based politics, rather than entrenching identity-focused politics. In the remainder of this article, we turn to how the authors confront the special issue’s three main themes.
Who and what is represented in a consociation?
At an etymological level, a consociation refers to ‘a society of societies, or a people of peoples’ (O’Leary, 2005a: xxii). It is for this reason that many consociationalists prefer the adage divided places rather than divided societies – in a consociation, the state is always composed of more than one society. From this starting point, power-sharing advocates contend that the transition from war-to-peace has to commence with addressing the substantive concerns of conflict protagonists – or the different peoples in the state – in order to pave the way for peace and democratisation. Such an arrangement is, at a minimum, better than continued intergroup violence and is thus preferable to other institutional solutions. A ‘negotiated consociational settlement’, O’Leary (2005b: 10) argues, ‘is better than a winner-takes-all outcome – especially when taking all implies killing, expelling, or assimilating the losers’. Both Agarin and Stojanović investigate the implications of this starting point and cut right to the core of power-sharing theory by interrogating its foundational assumptions as a theory of democracy.
Timofey Agarin (Agarin, this issue) is interested in the parallels between consociational and liberal democracies both in terms of the manner in which they facilitate participation and in terms of what is being represented in the political process. Focusing on citizens affected by, yet having no guaranteed representation in, power-sharing politics, Agarin tests the limits of institutions designed to put an end to intergroup conflict through representing the diversity of societal identities. His contention is that even if power-sharing settings encourage intergroup cooperation, they do so mainly with the formerly conflicting groups in mind, making non-dominant groups and their identities redundant in the halls of government. While the diversity of identities is recognised as the ‘norm’ of politics in both consociational and liberal democracies, Agarin argues, a focus on the representation of groups deemed ‘significant’ constrains the input of minority and non-dominant groups in both systems.
Nenad Stojanović (Stojanović, this issue) picks up directly on the notion of a ‘people of peoples’ by aligning consociational democracy with the literature on demoi-cracy, which also assumes ‘a Union of peoples who govern together but not as one’ (Nicolaïdis, 2013: 351). While most theorists distinguish between demoi-cracy and consociational democracy, Stojanović identifies some considerable conceptual affinity. His concern is with whether the design of political institutions around competing demoi favours stability over democracy. Ultimately, Stojanović concludes that a (corporate) consociational democracy is ‘a conceptual impossibility’. The demos problem is ‘solved’ in one of two ways in a consociation: either by falling into the ‘ethnocracy trap’ whereby democracy becomes untenable, or by the integration of competing demoi into a single demos, at which point governance is democratic but no longer consociational. A consociation becomes either a more extreme version of ethnic identity politics, as seen in ethnocracies, or it is rendered obsolete if and when ethnic politics yield place to the kind of interest-based politics found in demoicracies and other multinational liberal democracies.
Both articles suggest at the very least, that consociations are resistant to reform because the groups reaping the power-sharing dividend are mindful that their interests are recognised by and vested in the system. According to both authors, as long as power is shared between ethnic groups, consociations appear similar to ethnocracies in their functional modality of ‘government or rule by a particular ethnic group’ (Anderson, 2016), or indeed several ethnic groups. As a result, the members of the political community who do not belong to any one of these segments are factually reduced to second-order partners in political decision-making. While it is possible for a consociation to ‘render itself superfluous’ (Lijphart, 1977), a process Stojanović argues has happened in the early consociational cases of Switzerland and Austria, more often than not it morphs into ethnocratic form, with Bosnia and Herzegovina as the prototypical example. In such cases, consociational institutions, particularly corporate ones, do not become superfluous but instead entrench divisions. As Stojanović demonstrates, direct democracy and other centripetal strategies may be able to contribute to the emergence of a shared identity of peoples as citizens of the same polity. Agarin meanwhile argues that this process is likely to result in the overrepresentation of a newly constituted majority and, as is the case in liberal democracies, its eventual domination over all other non-dominant groups in the citizenry. Agarin and Stojanović, then, in line with the other authors in this special issue, stress the implications of the path-dependent nature of power-sharing institutions, particularly as it relates to how non-dominant groups can participate and gain representation in consociational spaces.
Exclusions in EAI
The second set of articles challenges the assumption that all citizens seek political representation on ethnic terms. Where politics rely on ethno-political bargaining, gender and sexual minorities, micro-minorities, members of groups identifying around non-ethnic or civic labels all find it disproportionally difficult to mobilise around issues that cut across the politically salient group boundaries. Yet, the question of ensuring the political participation of these non-dominant groups is critically important when designing political institutions. In post-conflict settings, the exclusion of such groups can result in the limited acceptance of shared interests, identities and institutions, can prevent conflict resolution by pitting the winners and losers of peace-building against one another, and can curtail the consolidation of democratic principles, all of which threatens to impede the peace-to-democracy transition. This concern is taken up by McCulloch, Byrne, Murtagh and Juon who each, in highlighting particular manifestations of exclusion, also identify strategies for minimising the effects of that exclusion.
Both Allison McCulloch (McCulloch, this issue) and Siobhan Byrne (Byrne, this issue), for instance, consider how women as a constituency have been largely excluded from power-sharing arrangements. While they chart different strategies for minimising the EAI dilemma for women, both authors challenge the view that a gender perspective is necessarily at odds with power-sharing practices. Whereas much feminist scholarship tends to frame power-sharing as gender-blind and exclusionary of women’s interests, McCulloch and Byrne both worry that a blanket rejection of power-sharing risks leaving women without the tools needed to challenge their exclusion. McCulloch suggests that the resources for integrating a gender perspective can be found within contemporary developments in power-sharing theory and practice. In particular, she notes that the widening of power-sharing to new areas can open up new political opportunities for women to participate in the larger power-sharing structure. McCulloch further finds that the distinction between liberal and corporate consociational arrangements remains complicated from a gender perspective, given that many of the typical strategies for including women rely on a kind of ascriptive logic of their own. Instead she argues for institutional strategies that are strong enough to provide the necessary protections for non-dominant groups but which are still liberal enough to avoid both gender and ethnic identity reification. Byrne meanwhile exposes the limited theorisation of power in contemporary power-sharing theory and queries whether critical feminist thinking can help us move past coercive and statist conceptions of power. She finds inspiration in theories of intersectionality and in the proposals brought forward by feminist scholar-practitioners, including notions of responsibility-sharing and sharing-power. Ultimately, by turning to the feminist ethic of care literature, she makes the case for a greater emphasis on the sharing logic in power-sharing, which has largely been ignored by power-sharing scholars. Doing so, Byrne suggests, provides the basis for a ‘new language of both power and sharing’ that takes seriously grassroots resistance, exposes power inequalities, and expands power beyond ethnonational elite interests.
Cera Murtagh (Murtagh, this issue) too takes as her starting point what she sees as a long-standing oversight in power-sharing theory: the endurance of civic parties under a set of institutional rules designed to reward ethnic parties. Disputing the claim that civic parties are theoretically marginal, she presents a complex picture of the fate of such parties in power-sharing systems. As might be anticipated, Murtagh first argues that the political opportunity structure of consociationalism serves as a barrier to the inclusive messaging of civic parties. These barriers can be both formal – corporate rules ensuring ethnic proportionality disadvantage parties seeking to mobilise on a non-ethnic basis – and symbolic – voters are socialised into a system of ethnic representation and see no other alternative than to continue to vote for ethnic parties. Nonetheless, Murtagh also suggests that civic parties have been presented with critical openings, including overrepresentation or balance-of-power roles in governing coalitions. Importantly, and in line with McCulloch, Juon, and Stojanović, she finds that the liberal-corporate distinction matters. Liberal rules enable civic parties to participate on civic terms whereas corporate rules require creative navigation, including sometimes having to act as ethnic representatives in order to gain entry into the system.
Andreas Juon (Juon, this issue) similarly argues that the distinction between liberal and corporate rules has important implications, though he comes at the EAI problem from the perspective of micro-minorities, ethnic groups that make up but a fraction of the overall population. In a large-N study, Juon uncovers a positive outcome for both dominant minorities and micro-minorities under power-sharing rules. Yet, as he suggests, these findings present constitutional designers with a quandary: opt for corporate rules, thereby ensuring strong guarantees for a small number of groups, possibly promoting some groups at the expense of others, or go with liberal rules, which offer weaker provisions but do so for a wider number of groups. While Juon points to a possible remedy of the EAI dilemma, at least for excluded ethnic groups, it is not likely to be popular with dominant parties, who may want to lock in their share of power via corporate rules.
Consociational theory assumes that because ‘ethnic divisions are resilient rather than rapidly biodegradable’ (McGarry and O’Leary, 1995: 338), conflict management is best achieved through the direct political accommodation of the central segments of society. Whilst pragmatic, it leaves open the door to the adoption of corporate over liberal mechanisms for groups’ representation. However, corporate consociations establish a system of representation that reserves place in politics to groups ahead of the political participation of the electorate, in so doing projecting interests upon groups, rather than upon members. At the same time, consociations emphasise the value of, and help to facilitate, free and fair elections. If, as in liberal consociations, no seats or government offices are reserved for specific groups ahead of elections, one might be able to reasonably anticipate that the political salience of major ethnic electoral blocs could disappear or weaken after extended periods of political stability. Should voters be more supportive of candidates who articulate their interests, rather than those who proffer (only) identity group rhetoric, consociational politics could equally advance issues that crosscut cleavages and appeal to non-dominant identity groups.
Inclusions in EAI
The three final articles in this special issue turn the EAI dilemma around to analyse the challenges that exist for dominant minority groups when they enter into power-sharing arrangements with majority groups. That is, despite their formal inclusion, exclusionary practices may well persist for dominant minorities. Dominant minorities, then, experience their own kind of EAI dilemma.
The central argument presented by Eduardo Wassim Aboultaif (Aboultaif, this issue) is that without careful constitutional design, power-sharing is not always sufficient to overcome the tendency towards hegemonic control. First, the balance of power that exists between groups is likely to skew negotiations in favour of the majority; without strong institutions, such as veto rights, the system will struggle to ward off this tendency to control. This has been the case in Lebanon, with the Christian Maronites historically serving as the hegemon even prior to independence (Winslow, 2012: 65). This led to the under-representation of the dominant Muslim minority during the National Pact era, which arguably precipitated the civil war (Salamey, 2013: 56) and which was only partially rectified by the terms of the 1989 Taif Accords. Aboultaif speaks to two aspects of Lijphart’s original conceptualisation of consociationalism. While he confirms that all four institutions need to be adopted as a package in order to achieve stability – a point from which Lijphart later stepped away – Aboultaif disputes Lijphart’s claim that semi-consociations can still promote democratic values. Defined by the concentration of executive powers at the centre and the communal control over the armed forces, semi-consociations allow the communal hegemon in the system to subordinate the interests of all other groups. Yet he sees the glass as half-empty, rather than half-full. Discussing the cases of pre-war Lebanon and post-invasion Iraq, Aboultaif identifies these three mechanisms as the reason for enduring instability and ultimately conflict in these countries.
At the root of his argument is the point that elites must be willing to cooperate with – and not control – one another for power-sharing to work effectively, a point that also emerges in Jon Fraenkel’s analysis. Fraenkel (Fraenkel, this issue) confirms this assumption, demonstrating how elites often enter into power-sharing arrangements for reasons other than a sincere desire to facilitate minority inclusion. As one of the five cases discussed in his article shows, the rules for parliamentary representation in Fiji between 1997 and 2006, which differentiated between communal and ‘cross-voting’ constituencies, was put into place to encourage non-ethnic voting of the multi-ethnic electorate. However, even in light of institutional incentives to de-ethnicise the political party landscape, ethnic Fijian parties put only ‘token’ representatives of the Indian community on their largely Fijian party lists, invariably losing support from Fiji Indian voters and vice versa. Fraenkel observed similar practices in Bosnia, South Africa, and New Caledonia. The Fijian experience highlights how political elites try to circumvent the constraints of the political system in order to avail themselves of what is, in effect, the consolidation of ethnic politics.
Also stemming from the willingness of elites to cooperate is the question of what inclusion brings for those minorities who are part of a power-sharing coalition. Fraenkel demonstrates how the EAI dilemma can also exist for included minorities. That is, instead of the inclusion of some groups resulting in the exclusion of others, he finds that inclusion and exclusion can become simultaneous processes for included groups. When minority representatives join power-sharing coalitions, they risk, first, being perceived as sell-outs by rival parties outside of the coalition, jeopardising their support levels at the next election, and second, being marginalised within cabinet and not being able to pass legislation in support of their own interests. Reading Aboultaif and Fraenkel in conjunction, there is a powerful argument for revisiting power-sharing’s assumption about the positive role political elites play in facilitating the transition from peace to democracy. Political elites’ positioning at the centre of power, their intimate knowledge of the political process, and their prime position to make political capital out of the peace dividend make them unlikely agents of change in the transformation from identity- to issue-based politics.
While Aboultaif and Fraenkel highlight the challenges of inclusion for dominant minorities, Charis Psaltis, Huseyin Cakal, Işık Kuşçu and Neophytos Loizides (Psaltis et al., this issue) push the conceptualisation of the EAI dilemma in new directions with a case study of the exclusion of IDPs from the Cyprus peace process. In their article, they challenge the assumption that ethnic parties speak for all members of the ethnic group and highlight how the differential experiences of IDPs and non-IDPs during the conflict informs their perspectives on the contours of a future settlement. Psaltis et al. reach two important conclusions. First, drawing on new survey data collected shortly after the failed Crans-Montana talks in 2017, they find that, against the extant literature on refugees and conflict resolution, IDP status in Cyprus is associated with higher levels of support for the peace process. Second, their survey data also demonstrate the importance of getting the institutional proposals right. Even when support for general principles of power-sharing is forthcoming, as in a bicommunal, bizonal federation, this does not automatically extend to support for specific institutional recommendations, as reservations on the proposed presidential arrangement indicate.
Consociational theory posits that the war-to-peace transition will eventually be followed by a peace-to-democracy transition. As this happens, the relevance of sectarian identities should dissipate and yield place to cooperative interest-based politics. The central thrust of consociationalism is thus to strengthen the authority of the state, while integrating all those who have input into and benefit from the development of a shared polity into the decision-making process. Yet, as Murtagh, Aboultaif and Fraenkel suggest, political cooperation in many deeply divided places often contests, rather than upholds, the ability of policy instruments to reach across the divide and shape meaningful narratives of social and political change without references to the group identities to be represented in consociational politics. If, as Psaltis et al. argue, resolving protracted conflicts is done in the name of ‘the people’, the representatives of all affected groups should be involved in the political process. To this end, consociational institutions should seek to demonstrate that group identity markers, rather than being permanently fixed, can contribute to and reflect the growth of shared interests, which can and should speak to all groups – and individuals – affected by the peace-to-democracy transition.
Conclusion
The question of how to ensure broad inclusion when designing power-sharing institutions is an important one for the development of democratic politics in divided societies. This special issue shines a light on a pressing – if neglected – aspect of this project, what we have labelled the EAI dilemma. The EAI dilemma, which manifests as a by-product of privileging large ethnic groups in power-sharing, risks leaving non-dominant communities out in the cold. In the articles that follow, the authors assess different features of the EAI dilemma, including how to determine who is represented in a consociational democracy, how excluded groups can and do mobilise for greater inclusion, and how exclusionary moments may be challenged amid formal inclusion.
The special issue as a whole suggests that while there is no single solution to the EAI dilemma, there are several points that ought to be heeded by constitutional designers interested in broad inclusion, as a mechanism for both initial peace building and sustainable democratisation. First, the EAI dilemma needs to be accounted for at the design stage, as it is here that the vision of a post-conflict democratic politics is set out. If consociationalism can really render itself superfluous, as Lijphart (1977) claims, it needs to plan for that eventuality by building institutions that can facilitate not just the initial war-to-peace transition but also a peace-to-democracy transition. Second, there is the need to be mindful of the EAI dilemma during power-sharing implementation. Power-sharing arrangements should avoid freezing identities salient at any given moment in time – particularly those moments where relations are most divisive. They should be able to leave open the political space for new identities and new interests to emerge and gain political resonance over time; as the authors suggest, the liberal-corporate distinction in power-sharing institutions plays an important role here for understanding the conditions under which the transition from identity- to interest-based politics can begin. Ultimately, power-sharing institutions designed to respond to and minimise the EAI dilemma can help divided places take the much-needed step from war to peace and from peace to democracy.
Supplemental Material
IPS873075_French_Spanish_abstract – Supplemental material for How power-sharing includes and excludes non-dominant communities: Introduction to the special issue
Supplemental material, IPS873075_French_Spanish_abstract for How power-sharing includes and excludes non-dominant communities: Introduction to the special issue by Timofey Agarin and Allison McCulloch in International Political Science Review
Footnotes
Funding
This work was supported by the Economic and Social Research Council (grant number ES/P003036/1).
Author Biographies
References
Supplementary Material
Please find the following supplemental material available below.
For Open Access articles published under a Creative Commons License, all supplemental material carries the same license as the article it is associated with.
For non-Open Access articles published, all supplemental material carries a non-exclusive license, and permission requests for re-use of supplemental material or any part of supplemental material shall be sent directly to the copyright owner as specified in the copyright notice associated with the article.
